She didn't love him and he didn't love her; she was like an addiction, and what they were doing had a darkness to it, a weight.

Its impossible to control the reception of your work - the only thing you can control is the experience of writing itself, and the work you create.

All that sunny afternoon, traveling north and east, Caroline believed absolutely in the future. And why not? For if the worst had already happened to them in the eyes of the world, then surely, surely, it was the worst that they left behind them now.

After all these years, I feel so free. Who knows where I might fly?

Photography is all about secrets... The secrets we all have and will never tell.

In some deep place in her heart, Caroline had kept alive the silly romantic notion that somehow David Henry had once known her as no one else ever could. But it was not true. He had never even glimpsed her.

The place was a familiar as breath but as far from his life now as the moon.